


Duty Calls

by Khylara



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-14
Updated: 2014-11-14
Packaged: 2018-02-25 07:24:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2613275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khylara/pseuds/Khylara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>3 am phone calls are never good news, especially when you have to leave the one you love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Duty Calls

The insistent buzzing of his phone vibrating against the wood of the nightstand dragged Mycroft Holmes out of an extremely pleasant dream of feeding his lover chocolate covered strawberries while lying in front of a crackling fire.  Letting out a resigned sigh, he untangled himself from the sheets as carefully as he could and sat up, making very sure he didn’t disturb the man soundly sleeping next to him.  Giving him a fond look, Mycroft tucked the sheet around one bare shoulder with the lightest of touches before turning his attention to his phone and its latest text message.

 

_You’re needed._

_Diplomatic incident w/Thai ambassador._

_PM wants you ASAP._

_Sorry._

_A_

Biting back a curse, Mycroft rubbed his eyes and slid out of bed, pulling on his robe as he did so. He headed straight for the bathroom, thanking whatever presence of mind he had been blessed with when he had hung a fresh change of clothes on the door earlier in the evening.

 

_No apologies necessary._

_Have car ready._

_Be down in 15._

_MH_

He was in the middle of knotting his tie when a soft voice caught his attention. “My?”

 

His heart skipped a beat at the sound of that husky voice combined with the nickname no one else was allowed to use.  “I’m sorry, Gregory. I didn’t mean to wake you,” he immediately apologized, his own voice soft.  “Go back to sleep.  I shouldn’t be long.”  Even as he was saying it, Mycroft knew that probably wasn’t true – diplomatic incidents were rarely wrapped up in no time, especially when one got called in the middle of the night to take care of things.

 

Sheets rustled and the small light on the bedside table was flicked on, revealing a bare-chested and frowning Greg Lestrade.  “You shouldn’t be up at all, especially with how late we went to bed,” he chided, reaching for his watch.  His frown deepened when he saw what time it was.  “It’s nearly three in the morning.”

 

Mycroft’s cheeks burned as he remembered just what they had been doing on the living room sofa that had kept them up so late. Tucking the ends of his tie under his waistcoat, he sat down on the edge of the bed and faced the other man.  “I’m afraid duty calls, my dear.”

 

Sitting up, Greg let out an exasperated sigh as he slid his arms around his lover’s neck. “This is the third time this week duty’s rung,” he complained, leaning against him.  “Can’t somebody else pick up the bloody phone once in awhile?” 

 

Mycroft shook his head, trying not to think about how delectable a naked and sleep tousled Detective Inspector felt in his arms.  It was almost enough to make him want to unknot his perfectly knotted tie, rip off his tailored suit and tell the British Government to go straight to hell.  “There is no one else,” he reminded, brushing his own fingers through the other man’s silver hair. A look of regret appeared on his face.  “I am sorry.”

 

Greg immediately shook his head and managed a smile.  “Not your fault, My.  No need for sorry.”  There was a pause.  “Can you tell me at least?”

 

Mycroft hesitated.  “Probably not,” he confessed, deciding to stay on the side of caution.  Granted, there was probably no danger, but it did concern a government official from another country. You never knew.  

 

Another sigh, this one resigned.  “All right.  Off you go, then.  Save the world.”  He gave Mycroft a quick kiss.  “I’ll be here when you get back.”

 

That brought a smile to Mycroft’s face. “Incentive,” he purred before pulling his lover into a deeper, much more satisfying kiss. 

 

Greg’s phone vibrating next to his watch caused them to break apart.  “Blast it,” he muttered, glaring at it.  An apologetic look crossed his face as he glanced back at Mycroft.  “Maybe not, then.”

 

Mycroft nodded; 3 am phone calls were rarely good news for Detective Inspectors as well. “I’ll call later,” he promised as he reluctantly drew away and stood up, putting on his suit jacket. “Be careful, my dear?”

 

Greg nodded. “You, too.” Grabbing Mycroft’s jacket lapel, Greg stole one more kiss before letting him go, smiling as he smoothed over the slight rumple he had caused. “Love you, My.”

 

Mycroft brushed his fingers along his lover’s cheek, a warm feeling settling in his chest when Greg leaned into the touch.  “I love you, too.” 


End file.
